


If She Dies, He Dies

by finn_move (ihavesomanynotes)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU kind of, Angst, Bellarke, F/M, Oneshot, bellamy x clarke, description of death, in case anyone needs that warning, it hasn't happened in the show but it's plausible, very much bellarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 13:10:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2694230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihavesomanynotes/pseuds/finn_move
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sort of a reimagining of the scene in 1x11 where Clarke fails to heal the Grounder girl Tris, and as a result Finn is taken from her. My dedicated Bellarke shipper heart immediately imagined Bellamy being taken away from her instead of Finn. I didn't want to make an exact copy of the scene, but it's close. Written from Bellamy's perspective, and also in a perfect world this would take place after 2x05.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If She Dies, He Dies

  _If she dies, he dies._

The words repeated in his brain as he watched Clarke's shaking hands dig through what meager medical supplies the grounders had. He was no doctor, but he was fairly sure they didn't have what she needed.  "Clarke...is there something else you can use, something else you can do?"

"I'm looking, Bellamy, I don't know, okay?" 

He heard the barely concealed panic in her voice. She really didn't know. He placed a hand on her arm to steady it and leaned in to speak in her ear."You can do this, Clarke. You got this. Deep breath." 

She listened, blowing out a long breath before resuming her search. He had complete faith in her, but if they didn't have the supplies...Bellamy glanced around at the grounders. One, two, three, four, five. With weapons. There was no way they'd be able to fight their way out of this if the girl didn't make it.  _Come on, princess._

"Okay," Clarke said, still managing to contain the shaking in her voice. "I think, if we can just find something to substitute for--"

"She can't breathe!"

Anya's voice cut through the room as all heads turned to the girl on the table. Her breath was coming in short, choking gasps, her body flailing against the wood. Clarke was at her side in an instant, checking her airway, trying to determine the cause. The gasps grew more frantic.

"I'm losing her. I can't stop this, Bellamy, I'm losing her!" 

Her words rose from a spoken realization to a desperate cry for help, control abandoned as the truth hit. There was nothing either of them could do. 

 _If she dies, he dies._  

The girl's gasps slowed, the flailing stopped. Bellamy watched as her chest stilled, as Clarke slowly removed her hands. She was gone. The silence was thicker than any he'd ever felt. He reached out to take Clarke by the shoulders. "Clarke..." he pulled her back, but she resisted. "Clarke, you did everything you could. She's--she's gone." He felt her shoulders fall as all her resistance subsided and she allowed herself to be led away from the table.

"I...I couldn't...I tried..."

"I know. It's not your fault. She was gone before you started." 

Anya stepped away from the table and motioned to one of the men in the corner. He gently lifted the girl's lifeless body, walking past Clarke and Bellamy on his way out of the room. Bellamy kept his hands on Clarke's shoulders, as if maybe, if he just held onto her, they wouldn't actually be separated. Surely, he thought to himself, surely they'd recognize that she tried, that the girl was beyond help, that Clarke simply didn't have what she needed when she needed it. Two of the grounders began to walk past them, placing themselves behind Bellamy's back. A chill ran down his spine. He knew why they were standing there. They were awaiting orders.

Anya stood motionless, staring at the door the girl's body had just been carried through for what seemed like minutes, but could have been seconds. He wasn't sure. He fought the urge to pull Clarke closer, to hold her as tightly as he could until they were inevitably forced apart. But that would show fear, and that was one thing he was determined not to do. Finally, Anya spoke.

"Seize him."

Bellamy's mind registered everything in the moments before his hands were torn away from Clarke. The way she gasped. The way she turned, eyes wide with horror as she looked behind him and saw the grounders reaching out to take him by the arms and shoulders. Her desperate cries asking "please, stop, don't do this." The way her hand reached for his as she was pulled back by the other grounder guard, her fingers slipping through his before his hands were forced behind his back. He stifled a grunt of pain. 

"Please, Anya, I tried, I couldn't...please, don't hurt him, don't--" she couldn't bring herself to say it. She was begging now, pleading with Anya to let him go. Anya looked from Bellamy to her guards as if debating, but Bellamy could see it in her eyes--she had no intention of letting him go. Clarke was crying, begging her to stop, sometimes simply repeating the word "no" as she struggled against her captor's hold. Her sobs cut through him like a knife in his gut. He had to get her to stop struggling so much before the grounders stopped her by force. 

"Clarke!" he called out. "Clarke, look at me." Immediately, her eyes found his and she stopped fighting. He kept his eyes fixed on her face, the face of the one person in the world that he could count on to be his constant, his anchor. She would be strong for him, he needed to be strong for her. "It's gonna be okay." 

"Bellamy, no, please don't," she sobbed. "No...I can't let them..."

"Listen to me, Clarke. Don't struggle. Don't fight, whatever you do. I know it's gonna be hard. Please, whatever happens to me, promise me you won't fight. The others need you." 

"I...."

"Clarke!!" He needed her to understand, he needed her to promise...

"I won't."

The guards pulled his hands tighter behind his back. His heart began to race. He had to tell her.

"You'll be okay, princess. You got this."

"I won't--" she choked out. "I can't lose you again, please..."

Bellamy wrenched his eyes away from Clarke's face and looked at Anya. "You don't have to do this. She tried. You just didn't have what she needed!"

Anya gave him an emotionless stare in response. "Trying isn't enough." Her eyes turned to Clarke, and Bellamy realized there was no getting out of this. His stomach sank as she gave the order.

"Take him."

Suddenly the world was a whirlwind of strained grunts, cries for mercy, and shouted orders as they began to drag him towards the door.

"NO!" Clarke screamed. "No, please! Don't do this, bring him back!" Bellamy started to reassure her, until he heard one more thing: his name. Just his name. She had run out of things to say, she was scared, and what she needed was him. His reason fled, replaced with one thought: He couldn't leave Clarke. He fought with every muscle in his body, his feet struggling to find purchase on the floor, his arms straining against the grounder guards that he knew were too strong for him to overcome. They reached the door. He wasn't going to get to her. He had to tell her. He managed to free an arm and grabbed the door frame, bracing himself against it for just long enough. 

"Clarke, you'll be okay, it'll be all right."  

"Bellamy..." she sobbed. The guard grabbed his hand from the door frame. This was it.

"Clarke--"

The door slammed, cutting him off. He could still hear her, calling his name, the pain in her voice audible even through the door. His whole world seemed to spin, to fall away, and he quietly finished his sentence.

"I love you."


End file.
